wordsforhire

My ass is cozy and warm as I sit here to think about this fucker and the damned bitch and brawl of cursive writing is so elusive to me…it’s not that cussing up a storm is something so god awful that god himself should never be using cuss words…it’s just that they’re not something I ever sought to write with.  I can’t seem to manage writing a persuasive essay—it’s like a whore that doesn’t want to have sex for money—and I can’t think of a poem that would work without just popping in a few random curse words that make no sense and make me sound like a fucking homie cranking a bitchin’ lullaby.  But isn’t that the point of the curse word?  That it doesn’t make any damn sense?  That’s just my perspective of the bastard child that is cursive writing…not that my views are wrong, they just appear to be different from what the rest of the assholes of the world think.  I just don’t care much for the damned phrases that so many people can have slip off their tongues.  It seems filthy to me and literally unintelligent so I am completely damned with this topic.  The best I can come up with is to write my complaints about this bitch and then fuck around with the words and hope the shit I manage to coerce from my mind to the page by adding a few fucks, bitches and goddamnits is good enough.

I have to question myself as a writer if I cannot overcome this particular obstacle.  Having these ten topics has certainly given me a stretch of the imagination that has sparked many ideas that have made me feel more motivated to write as well as completely refreshed.  And then I come upon this particular request and I am stuck in shit.  Stopped before I can even get started: at a damned half pipe without a fucking skateboard.  Metaphors, similes, litotes, hyperboles shit any sort of literary tool I can use for writing but I cannot get passed writing a few paragraphs and implementing a few (or more) curse words.  My prompt tells me to change what words I can but my fucking mind keeps adding words in nonchalant places that honestly don’t make any sense afterwards.  I feel like I’ve been bitch-slapped by a topic.

This is certainly a rewarding experience because I’ve never tried to put myself in a world where cussing is the norm.  The most I ever heard was in high school.  As a writer I should be able to write a scene with some gangster scene where slang is used.  I honestly don’t know much slang.  The jargon of the streets is beyond my lingo.  It takes a professional to write these words—a profession I intend to become right now.